


Skylar Needs A Stallion

by SlutWriter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bestiality - Horse, Breeding, Cock Worship, Creampie, Cum Inflation, Dirty Talk, F/M, Other, Thick Cum, Virility, ball worship, ntr, teen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24436417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlutWriter/pseuds/SlutWriter
Summary: Teen cheerleader Skylar Keen is outraged when her boyfriend Reggie removes his condom without permission and accidentally cums inside of her. Wanting to be sure she doesn't get pregnant, she takes matters into her own hands at her next riding lesson... seeking a load that will totally erase her boyfriend's meager ejaculation from her tight pussy!
Comments: 21
Kudos: 497





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a commission.

Skylar Keen was thinking about her black stallion.  
  
She knew she shouldn’t have been, since she was currently engaging in sexual relations with her boyfriend, Reggie. Skylar was only sixteen years old, but even at that tender and experimental age she was aware that girls were expected to pay attention to their sexual partners during sex. That said, Reggie didn’t exactly make it easy.  
  
She was on her back, legs spread, as he pumped and grunted on top of her - a rich kid of middling athleticism and middling looks, whose main attributes as a boyfriend were his inability to take ‘no’ for an answer. He’d doggedly pursued her since seeing her in high school, pulling out all the ‘rich kid’ stops - offering a ride in the actually-belongs-to-my-dad sports car, expensive gifts, persistent and borderline inappropriate levels of attention - until Skylar had just… given in and agreed to date him.   
  
They went to movies, showed up together at social gatherings with mutual friends, she did the expected lap-sitting. He attended her cheerleading rallies and sometimes drove her to practices. Skylar also took horse riding lessons twice weekly at Stoneburrow Farm, a privately-owned ranch - she found the quiet beauty of the horses a lot more interesting than Reggie’s brashness, to be honest - and Reggie insisted on dropping her off at these appointments as well, before proceeding to complain about how inconvenient it was on the way there. Overall, the dating experience had been… okay.   
  
Sex was also… just okay.  
  
Reggie was seventeen, nearly eighteen - a year and a half older than she. On this day the unshaven bristles on his jawline were irritating her as he rubbed them against her neck in the grunting throes of coitus. She was wet enough for the penetration to not be uncomfortable, but that was as far as it went. His foreplay had consisted of a little fingering and a bunch of variations of ‘I want you so bad baby’, which was his go-to line when he was feeling horny and wanted some physical intimacy.  
  
It was easy to see why he was so interested. Many would have agreed that Skylar was the most beautiful girl at her high school, and had been pursued by many hopeful young men. When she was walking the halls in her pleated skirt (cut a few inches above the knee), thigh-high socks, buckles shoes, and school blazer - with her tie pinned between her breasts and making their generous size and perfect shape more apparent - there wasn’t a male, student or faculty - who didn’t stop to watch. She wore her silky soft brown hair down just past her shoulder, and the lighter streaks of blonde were natural highlights that the sun seemed to bring out when the day was bright. Her eyes were light, grey with the palest hint of green and blue, and of course, she had learned long ago, with her gaggle of girlfriends, to always keep her makeup “on point” with teased out eyelashes, perfectly-plucked brows, and flattering (but not provocative) lip gloss.   
  
It was a toss-up whether the view from behind Skylar was preferable to the view from the front. Her buttocks jiggled as she walked - they were too pert and bouncy not to - but so did her breasts, even when wrapped in her school-sanctioned shirt button-up shirt and confined in her bra. Many compromised by looking at her from the side, where the slalom-worthy curves could be appreciated in silhouette. Most males didn’t have the courage to approach her, even though she was generally friendly and not the type to act like a ‘mean girl’. They just assumed they had no shot. Thus, through a combination of financial advantages, irrational self-confidence, and persistence, it was Reggie, a soon-to-graduate senior, who had swooped in with his father’s car and dime-store pickup lines to take the prize.  
  
People figured that was that. Males at the school congratulated black-haired, loud-mouthed Reggie on being a lucky bastard, and cursed him behind his back. Nobody knew, however, that Reggie was failing to _hit it_.  
  
Though they’d had sex numerous times - usually a couple times a week - Skylar didn’t really enjoy it. She had often fantasized about her first sexual experiences, and had hoped they would be everything she’d dreamed about… but the reality was a letdown. Reggie was both inexperienced and overconfident, a lethal combination in the bedroom. The first time, he’d lasted about two minutes, and while the foreplay had a bit exciting because of the boundaries being broken, the passable fingerbanging had given way to a condom-clad, mechanical, fast-breathing encounter that had ended satisfactorily for only fifty percent of them.  
  
From there, sex had gotten longer… but only marginally better. The orgasms that Skylar had while at home in her bed were leagues ahead of anything Reggie made her feel during their lovemaking. These trysts usually occurred in either his room or hers, but regardless of the location, the outcome was the same. He would pump away for four minutes, or maybe even as many as ten, and his penis would seem to reach the edge of making her feel something… but then it would be over.  
  
Skylar didn’t want to get into an argument about it with him. She was worried that he would say something was wrong with _her_ \- that she wasn’t providing enough attention, enough titillation, that she should mix things up and dance or strip or say dirty things in his ear. When they first started dating, the blowjobs she gave him were exciting again because of that ‘boundary breaking’ quality. _Hey world, look what I can do now! I’m a growing, sexually-ready young woman!_ Now, taking his cock into her mouth had all the excitement of a whistle blowing to start the factory shift of foreplay, coitus, and cleanup.  
  
Very early on, she tried to get herself excited with fantasies of her own, but quickly realized that she didn’t really know what pushed her buttons well. Her infrequent bouts of masturbation were very much based on a simple desire to feel the physical sensation of cumming, and not facilitated by any particular fantasy. So, with that plan failing, she simply used the time to think about other things in general. And more and more, her mind returned to her favorite times in the week - her riding lessons, with her stallion, Blackie, so named because of his completely black coat and crest.  
  
After learning on mares and geldings for two years, she’d switched to riding on Stoneburrow Farm’s only ungelded male. The farm owner, Mr. Colson, told her that Blackie had once been in riding and jumping competitions, but had an accident and nearly had to be put down. Thus, Stoneburrow was his retirement. He warned her that an athletic stallion was a different beast than riding a gelding or a mare, but Skylar had been excited to try - and found an instant connection with the animal, who was faster and more powerful than the other horses she’d ridden. Truth be told? When she rode, the feeling she got from the thundering, thrumming horsepower beneath her… it was better than anything Reggie was doing. Once or twice, she had almost had an orgasm from the vibrations!  
  
Skylar sighed, thinking about those clit-shaking meadow runs, and then realized she had done it out loud. “Are you cumming, babe?” Reggie groaned. “I’m… getting close!” Skylar was happy about that - because if he was getting close, that meant it would soon be over. They would wipe herself down, Reggie would roll off the bed, put his pants back on, go to the washroom, and dispose of the condom.   
  
Was it possible to get jaded about sex at only sixteen years old? She was sad to even be asking the question. But she had a riding lesson that day, and if Reggie was ready to drop and vacate, the sooner she could get there.  
  
“Nnnngh… fuck! Your pussy is so fuckin’ tight!” Reggie grunted, and she could feel his hot breath on her ear. She wrapped her hands around his waist like she did when she wanted to encourage him. Soon it would be over, and it seemed to Skylar that, because of a combination of her own distant mindset and an even greater-than-usual lack of finesse on Reggie’s part, he’d been further from making her cum than ever.  
  
“Oh, fuck! Oh, shit” Reggie grunted, and he did a weird push-off maneuver, looking down at himself, and withdrew his spent penis. Looking down over her own body - Skylar had her blouse drawn up above her tits, and her skirt and panties were removed - she immediately saw a problem. Reggie wasn’t wearing a rubber. But she had seen him unwrap it! And he had made a motion like he was putting it on!  
  
“What the fuck!” she exclaimed, her surprise and anger coming quickly, too quickly to temper her words. “Where’s the condom?”  
  
“I was just… shit, babe - I was just going to pull out.” He looked down at his own cock, sheepishly. Judging from the sticky semen strand connecting his tip to her pussy - and the wetness that Skylar was feeling, leaking out of her slit - he’d done nothing of the sort! She had felt him spasm and grunt into her as usual, which indicated that, in fact, Reggie had delivered his whole load directly into her pussy!  
  
“Why didn’t you? You don’t even ask?!” she cried, and, lacking anything else on hand, reached behind herself for a pillow and winged it at his face. “You know I’m not on birth control!”  
  
“You were going to ask your mom about it!” Reggie shot back, and unbelievably, his green eyes seemed to be _accusing her_. “You said that like, two months ago! So I didn’t have to wear a condom! You haven’t been as into it lately-”  
  
 _Lately? More like never,_ Skylar thought, but didn’t say.  
  
“-and I just wanted, you know. To have it feel better for you.”  
  
Skylar wasn’t the most worldly young lady, but she could tell a total crock of shit when she heard one. First, Reggie was essentially blaming her for his decision. Second, his claim that he wanted it to feel better for her was nothing but a lie - he only cared about it feeling better for himself!  
  
“You’re a fucking asshole!” she cried, tears in her eyes, sitting up on the bed and gathering her clothing. Even in a rage, buttoning her shirt up over her large, round breasts and sliding bare-bottomed off the bed to grab a Kleenex and wipe the wetness from her curvy, puffy pussy mound (with its light, dainty dusting of downy pubic hair), she was more beautiful than most young women could hope to be. “I can’t believe you did that!”  
  
“The chances of you getting pregnant-”  
  
“Don’t talk to me about the chances!” Skylar insisted. “You’re such a _dick_!” She was as mad as she’d ever been, her cheeks flushed not with the heat of passion, as was supposed to be the case, but with anger.  
  
Reggie dared to roll his eyes. “Don’t overreact and make me out to be the bad guy, just because you were afraid to-”  
  
“Ugh!” She could stand no more of him, and stomped out of his room, still gathering her clothes, making her way down the stairs and into the foyer of the expensive, but empty, house that Reggie shared with his divorced father. (From the way Reggie’s dad, Bill, looked at her, Skylar guessed that he had the same taste in women as his son - which was to say, beautiful and _young_ ).  
  
“Where are you going to go?” Reggie called after her. “I gave you a ride here!” And then. “Stop being a crazy bitch!”  
  
Skylar popped up a middle finger as she strutted out the front door in her disheveled, but mostly in-place, school uniform. The rumpled clothing and the rush she was in made her look wild, and that was no coincidence. She wanted to get away from Reggie. She wanted to go to the farm, get in the saddle, and _ride_. Humans like Reggie had a way of making animals look noble by comparison.   
  
He was staring at her incredulously from his front door as she stuck her thumb out. And though she’d been told by her mother never to hitchhike, when the first car slowed and stopped (girls who looked like Skylar didn’t come along every day), she didn’t hesitate to get inside.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The car turned out to be driven by a black guy who seemed a few years older than her, with his two friends in the back. He introduced himself as Kevon, “ _like Kevin but with an O_ ”, and his two friends were Mario and Lil’ Shake. Skylar did not ask how the skinny, smiling male behind her came by that name. Nor did she comment on how the car smelled a lot like the weed that was sometimes passed around among her friends when they were sure nobody uptight was watching.  
  
She asked them to take her to Stoneburrow Farm, and was surprised when Kevon said he knew the place. “Oh, for real? My old-ass uncle runs that joint!”  
  
Skylar perked up at this news. The caretaker of the farm was indeed an old black man with bib overalls and a corona of frizzy white hair around his bald head in the shape of a half-eaten donut. “You know Mister Sheb?”  
  
“Know him? Shiiiiit, nigga is _off the hook_ tryin’ to get my city ass up there to ride some country-ass horses.” They all laughed, and Skylar began to feel at ease. She offered to pay for gas if they took her up there, Kevon agreed that ten dollars was fine since it was only about a fifteen minute drive, not too far from where they were going. This made Skylar feel even better. She did not see the way the driver looked back and winked at his two backseat compatriots indulgently, as if they were in on a secret joke. Of the three, Lil’ Shake was the small one, Mario was the muscled one, and Kevon seemed to be the _paid_ one. Probably the owner of the car, if she had to guess. He wore an Egyptian cotton sleeveless undershirt that covered up a nice rack of muscles, and his arms were covered in tattoos. His hair was freshly barbered and he had a diamond earring in one ear. Skylar wondered if he might be a drug dealer. Even if he was, she couldn’t help liking him, and his friends, a little bit. She had wanted to get away from Reggie, and they had helped her.  
  
Mario didn’t say a word on the way up. Lil’ Shake talked a lot. Kevon was somewhere in the middle. When they arrived at the gate leading up to the farm, where the road turned from asphalt to a rutted dirt, she thanked them for the ride, not thinking to see if they would leave after dropping her off, or linger.   
  
She had other things on her mind, like feeling the pounding rhythm of a Blackie’s gallop, reverberating through her body. That was what she needed to feel right again.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
She was much too early for her riding time, and Sheb, the groundskeeper, wasn’t around. But Skylar knew he trusted her around the horses - he had said as much - and she walked up to the barn where Blackie was kept alone. It was a stout red and white wooden structure with a fenced-in pen out front, and most days Blackie was kept there alone, since he got temperamental around other horses.  
  
Perfect for some quality time, Skylar thought, and she was surprised at how such an emotion came so naturally with Blackie when it was such a struggle with her boyfriend. She had kept cool while hitchhiking her way up, but walking to the barn, she felt - or imagined she felt - wetness between her legs, as if the portion of Reggie’s cum that had been inside her was threatening to leak out. This inflamed her anger and embarrassment anew.   
  
_That stupid jerk_ , she seethed. _He’ll probably brag about to his friends tomorrow about things are going great with us and our sex life is amazing. I’ve heard him do it. He’ll act like nothing is wrong, things are great, and if I complain he’ll say it’s me, overreacting._  
  
She reached the entrance to the barn, and the farm smell of hay, animal feed and livestock hit her nose. Skylar’s nostrils flared as she took a deep breath, frankly enjoying it, feeling cleansed by it. Reggie practically dunked his head in Axe body spray, and the artificial smell of cologne had unpleasant associations now. But the smell of the barn - the smell of Blackie - was different. Wholesome, somehow, and alluring.   
  
She stepped inside, and he was there to greet her, standing near the back in his extra-large stall. His eyes were as black as the rest of him, with only the whites providing any color at all. He was a big horse, well-muscled and tall, the top of his head nearing seven feet when he raised his neck up. Skylar felt her heart leap, and for a blessed moment, forgot about Reggie. Blackie was something - _someone_ \- she could always depend on.  
  
She walked to his stall, picking up the bucket of carrots and apples that old Sheb always left laying around, and Blackie flicked his ears and nickered as she approached. He immediately dipped his head into the bucket for morsels, allowing her to pet his cheek and his neck. The smell was stronger, the scent of a hardworking male horse. Skylar liked it, though she honestly couldn’t have said why.  
  
“Oh, Blackie,” she sighed, pressing her cheek against his head while he munched. “What am I going to do?” She found talking aloud to Blackie to be therapeutic; unlike Reggie, who, when she got upset, mostly worried about how it would inconvenience _him_. “My boyfriend is a jerk. And I just know if I break up with him, he’ll blame me and tell all his friends I’m like… a super ice-queen.”  
  
Munch munch munch. Blackie was enjoying his carrots, but he was allowing himself to be petted and snuggled as well, which Skylar appreciated. The wetness between her legs still irked her though. She felt so unclean, so gross. She wasn’t afraid of bodily fluids, cheerleading and riding horses she’d been in the dirt plenty of times. But the fact that it had happened without her permission, that he didn’t even _care_ she might find up pregnant.  
  
“You’re so much better than he is, Blackie,” she confided, and the horse snuffled and seemed to raise his head a bit to look at her. She reached into the bucket and pulled out a carrot, offering it to him. He started munching immediately, flapping his big, rubbery lips as horses do. Skylar took the opportunity to plant a kiss on his snout, and she felt a bit of saliva splatter on her chin from Blackie’s nomming. A few droplets even tickled her lips.  
  
The contrast between how she felt about Blackie’s spit and Reggie’s cum couldn’t have been more stark. She wanted Reggie’s cum _gone_. But when Blackie’s spit landed on her, she felt a rush of intimacy and excitement, welcoming it. Accepting it. “You’re more polite than him,” she praised. “More patient. You never blame me, or get angry. You’re… you’re stronger than him.” The last one was obvious at a glance - Sheb had told her that Blackie weighed in at 2300 pounds, and the rippling of his muscled beneath his shining black coat was a sight to behold. Her hand wandered down his neck to his withers, which was as far as she could reach without opening his gate.  
  
“He’s always bragging,” she said, sighing, thinking about how Reggie liked to make comments about her body in front of other guys, treating her like a trophy. He acted like she should be flattered when he talked about how her ass was ‘fucking perfect’ or told his friends ‘she has such amazing tits’. “He thinks he’s god’s gift to women, but… I bet you could show him a thing or two, huh? That was your whole job, wasn’t it Blackie?”   
  
Sheb had told her that Blackie had spent time as a stud horse after his injury. Now, he was on the older side but, Sheb had confided, “he probably still got some pop left in his gun!” That had made her giggle. Skylar actually knew quite a bit about the breeding of horses and how stallions mated, thanks to Sheb. Sheb was, if anything, a little too conversant on the subject, regaling her with all manner of off-color stories from his glory days overseeing Blackie’s time at stud, including a couple that were borderline inappropriate, full of details that Skylar felt both superfluous and a little exciting. Thus, Skylar knew more about mating positions, artificial vaginas, horse foreplay, and horse semen sale prices than pretty much any other sixteen-year-old.  
  
She moved to open the gate, wanting to take him out for his ride. She stepped inside, and when she saw Blackie in profile, a thought occurred to her and she blushed, then giggled to herself. For all of Reggie’s cocksure attitude, his penis was nothing special, and he hadn’t managed to make her cum even once. “You’re way bigger than him down here, too,” she said, blushing furiously, and then giggling again as she walked up to Blackie’s side and pressing her head against his midsection. She could hear the great, whooping sound of his breathing when her ear was flush. She had said what she said in a secretive, whispering voice… but she found it felt good to say, in a guilty-pleasure sort of way.  
  
Looking behind her briefly to make sure the coast was clear, she dropped down to her knees so she could get a better look. Blackie’s penis was halfway out of its sheath - a coal black log of flesh that was longer than her forearm, fingertips to her elbow, even in this half-hidden state. There was a scent coming from it, too, something hard to describe. Pungent, animalistic, overwhelming. “God, it’s big,” she breathed to herself, and she couldn’t help but mentally compare it to Reggie's average-sized manhood. It was more than twice as thick, more than three times as long, and it wasn’t even close to fully erect. Swallowing nervously, Skylar reached out a small, agile hand to press against Blackie’s balls, and gasped.  
  
The _heat_. The _weight_. The _size_. Each one seemed bigger than a grapefruit, but ovoid like a giant egg. She pressed her hand harder against the horse’s gleaming black scrotum and enjoyed the tactile sensation of fat, leathery horse balls overspilling her palms as she kneaded them from below. Blackie’s penis was surging, too, uncoiling from his sheath at a faster rate. It flopped and dangled with dumb superiority in from of her astounded face. Some part of her knew that what she was doing - what she was feeling - was considered inappropriate, but in the moment, Skylar didn’t care. It was earnest, and real, and that was enough. Blackie made her feel better during their time together than Reggie ever had, despite all of the latter’s promises of being a ‘great guy’.  
  
The attraction seemed natural. Built on real time together, galloping across the Stoneburrow acreage, of feeding times and one-sided cats and confidences, and yes, of those pussy-quivering, pounding rhythms as she bounced up and down in the saddle.  
  
Skylar’s first instinct was to reach a hand down beneath her skirt, push the crotch of her panties aside, and rub herself a little. The fact that Reggie had been there recently gave her pause. She knew if she explored the soft, nearly-hairless folds of her slit with a probing finger or two, she might feel the slick wetness of his unbidden ejaculation inside her. The idea made her sick. He’d pulled out enough, cum on her belly and her breasts enough times, that she knew what it looked like and she knew what was inside her - a watery, slippery fluid with a few denser white globs.  
  
“Ugh,” she groaned. And she just _knew_ that if she took Blackie out and put his saddle on, and settled in atop him, she might still feel Reggie leaking out of her. She just wanted to wash him away; if she were at home, she would lock herself in the bathroom, take the detachable showerhead into the bath, and spray it into the delta between her legs until Reggie was forgotten. She supposed they would break up, and she would have to deal with his apologies, his passive-aggressive blame, and his attempts to reconcile, which would be constant and abrasive.  
  
Blackie shuffled and shifted his hooves, and his cock wavered close to her face, giving her a deep whiff of musk. She couldn’t help it. She wanted the cum, the Axe body spray, the loud brashness, away from her. Off of her! She needed something else!  
  
Skylar reached up and took Blackie’s musky, heavy cock in her hand - her fingers could not encircle it completely. She pulled the shaft to her face, and pressed the spongy head against her cheek. It was still soft and flopping enough that she could manipulate the length easily. She inhaled, taking in the smell, feeling the smooth, leathery texture and the ridges of veins, the soft scraping of tissues from the enlarged, flanged head.   
  
She rubbed the huge horsecock all over her face as if she was cleansing herself of Reggie. It felt so good! She knelt down, getting her thigh-high socks dirty on the stall floor and not caring, content to rub that horse dick on her pretty, beaming sixteen-year-old face. The tip mashed her lips, which she kept pursed. She pressed Blackie’s dickhole against her nostrils and inhaled deeply.  
  
The scent was heavenly. Like the scent of Reggie’s cum, but a hundred times stronger. She sniffed and piped an eye-water whiff as deep as she could, her tear ducts growing moist and making her large, expressive eyes glisten. Her teeth nibbled at her plump bottom lip and her hand went to her chest. Her breasts suddenly felt tingly and needy, and she pressed her fingers into one and squeezed, tweaking the nipple with her thumb. Skylar didn’t stop to think about what she was doing, or how it might seem to anyone else. “Nnngh!” she moaned. “Your cock smells so fucking good!”  
  
She blushed. It was a lewder thing than she’d ever said to a human being, even though Reggie had always encouraged her to ‘talk dirty’. It was the stallion’s non-judgmental nature that made it easier, and though her words had been audible in the barn, there was nobody there to hear them. She looked up the shaft toward Blackie’s heavy, hanging balls, shifting sideways slightly and positioning herself underneath him. She lifted her knees and took up a squat on the balls of her feet, fanning her skirt out over her spread knees and flashing the white crotch of her panties at the stall boarding. She craned her face out and up, pressing them into the horse’s heavy sack, letting that leather, molten ball-bag melt over her face as she filled her nostrils with scrotal skin and took a whiff.  
  
The musky, sweaty stallion scent felt like it was heavy enough to ream out her brain. She moaned again and felt her body respond with more tingling, her nipples erect beneath her blouse. She clawed her front and heard the sort unsnapping of buttons, then pulled her bra down to expose her perfect tits, the areolas puffy and pinker than her tanned skin, the nipples poking out in little nubs that were afire with the grinding of her thumb and forefinger.  
  
A hypothetical future conversation played out in her mind.  
  
 _I found someone so much better than you, Reggie. We’re never going to get back together, so you might as well give up asking. I’m marked with his scent. He makes me feel better than you ever could._  
  
She nibbled her lip, her vision obscured by that heavy horse sack, and moaned out as she enjoyed the fantasy of being free from Reggie. She realized she should have broken up with him long before; she had stayed only because he hadn’t done anything so bad that he couldn’t spin it as “her fault”. He had played on her insecurities, and she had dreaded what he might say around school if she did break up with him, about her ‘putting out’, sexual habits, or anything else embarrassing.  
  
She seethed out a breath through her teeth. No, being vague about it was too good for Reggie. What he’d done had been tantamount to sexual assault. Putting her at risk of a pregnancy, simply because he didn’t like how the condoms felt. No, he deserved to hear it all.  
  
 _Instead of making out with you, I spent my day sniffing the cum stink out of Blackie’s big horse meat! His cock is so much bigger than yours, Reggie - and I get more of a thrill letting his balls cover my face than I do from sex with you. I’d rather go out with a horse than you, Reggie. Would rather give my body to a horse. That ass you’re always bragging to your friends about… belongs to my horse boyfriend!_  
  
It wasn’t a conscious decision to open her mouth and start sucking on Blackie’s sack. It was just the logical progression of her actions and her mood. She supposed it was like wanting to have sex with another guy in order to get revenge - except in this case, the ‘other guy’ was a retired competition horse who had been put out to stud. She wanted… needed… to service the beast that had always made her feel so special. So while she had never approached oral sex with Reggie with much enthusiasm - he always acted in such a sleazy way when asking for it, and constantly said stupid things during - she took to this new task with enthusiasm.  
  
She loved Blackie’s balls. The size of them - those massive, churning nuts excited her in a way that no human cock could. She loved feeling the weight of them on her face, loved trying to get her wet mouth around part of their circumference. She was drooling on them, moaning into them, and not caring how lewd it was. Skylar made indecent, breathy sucking noises as she made out with Blackie’s ballsack, servicing first one nut then the other, holding them up with two hands and letting them weight in her palms, kissing them, licking them, bobbing her head on them as if she was blowing them.   
  
She loved the smell and she loved the taste. And more than that she loved how virile they were. Just looking at them, she could get the sense they were producing such a huge amount of sperm, enough to impregnate a whole stable of mares. She imagined she could actually feel the testicles vibrate and thrum as they churned out strands and ropes of thick cum curds, wriggling with stallion swimmers. She put her ear to Blackie’s balls and imagined she could _hear_ it.  
  
 _Slllch. Sllrrrrch. Blrrrbp._  
  
The sound of testicles, _stewing_ in thick, chunky semen, pumping out more all the time. Her knees quivered and her hand went to her clit, beginning to rub it. Something about the sheer _superiority_ of it appealed to her in a very elemental way that had nothing to do with romance. Her breathing sped up as she pleasured herself, still taking care not to stick a finger inside, afraid she might feel the slickness of Reggie’s cum even still. The idea of getting pregnant from something like that… it was… horrifying!  
  
“Nnngh!” she moaned, biting her lip and nuzzling against her stallion’s balls. Blackie’s long cock, drooping under its own magnificent weight, flopped over her shoulder. Skylar planted big, wet kisses on his testicles as her arousal gained steam. She reached up and gave his prong an experimental, milking stroke, base to tip… and then it happened.  
  
Something heavy and wet splattered onto the sleeve of her sweater. Starkly white against the navy blue. Richly textured, so thick it could scarcely be said to be liquid. Skylar gasped, her pretty eyes wide open. A thick, gelatinous rope of cum had slid from Blackie’s pisshole and splattered on her bicep and the crook of her elbow!   
  
“Oh my god,” she whispered. “Blackie!” The smell was that same overwhelming, pungent scent she’d experienced while sniffing his pisshole. Apparently, her attention had made the horse randy enough to leak just a little… and what he’d produced was amazing. With her opposite hand, she pinched the end of the cum strand as if it were a worm, and lifted it. The gooey white jelly peeled upward, with smaller strands stretching and then snapping. “Oh my god!” she repeated. She mashed the cum between her fingers and felt the slickness and wetness, as well as the lumpiness. Between this and the sperm that Reggie had put inside her in their ill-fated encounter earlier that afternoon… there was no comparison.  
  
She closed her hand into a fist and rubbed her fingers on her palm. The sperm slathered over her hand in a gooey, lubricated mess - but when she opened her hand there were still quivering, unbroken chunks of it stuck to her fingers. What she did next made perfect sense to her, even if it seemed absurd. She took her hand, heavy with horse-cum, and stuffed it down into her panties, digitally penetrating herself, wanting to get as much inside her as she could.  
  
“Erase him from me,” she breathed, and the pleasure she was feeling was undeniable. Her fear - that she would feel some remnant of Reggie’s sperm inside her - was easily defeated. All she could feel now was the slipping and sliding of dense horse cum as she pressed her fingers further. With her opposite hand she reached up to milk Blackie’s cock some more, and after a few strokes, additional semen started to slide from the hardening member in ropey, lumpy wads that slopped all over her wrist and hand, as well as the ground. She was quite sure this wasn’t an orgasm on the stallion’s part, but rather just the reservoir of issue being produced in surplus by his overactive, ultra-virile balls!  
  
“Wash him away, Blackie. I don’t want to feel him, ever again!” She slid her panties down her legs to reveal her cum-moistened slit, such a puffy curve, the lips pink and engorged. She gathered a handful of thick, lumpy jizz like she was squeezing out lotion, and this time didn’t hesitate to shove it into her pussy; using as many fingers as she could comfortably fit. “I don’t want to have his baby!” Her blushing mons depressed under her fingers as she slathered herself with the creamy horse-batter, pressing as much as she could inside with her fingers. It was a liberating feeling, replacing a bad memory with something new. But she needed more. Reggie had been deep inside her - or, at least, as deep as his nothing-special penis could reach - when he’d started spasming and groaning.  
  
Skylar unsnapped her skirt and tossed it aside, leaving her totally bottomless, panties around one ankle. She rose up to a hunched over position underneath Blackie, whose long, floppy horse dong still remained pliable enough to waggle around. It was like handling an elephant’s trunk or some other big, bendy appendage, unspeakably thick and throbbing and warm. She knew that she couldn’t have Blackie fuck her at full mast - his mighty cock would ram straight through her tiny teenage body and into her throat - but she might be able to insert the big spongy head and move her hips back and forth along it.  
  
She spread her flawless sixteen year-old bubble butt and let the cheeks bounce back together around Blackie’s cockflange, starting to sway back and forth, rubbing him. She didn’t need to be fucked, she needed to be _disinfected_. She wanted her boyfriend’s cum eliminated, sterilized by heavier, thicker, impossibly virile horse sperm. Blackie’s cock flange was huge, true, but she was wetter than she’d ever been - the insides of her sculpted thighs were totally slick with her own lubrication - and she’d already greased up her needy, sizzling pussy with handfuls of Blackie’s cum. She judged that because the horse’s monster penis was still a bit bendy and not fully rigid, it might be possible.  
  
She placed the elephantine head against her slit and pressed her hips backward, with Blackie’s ebon belly forming a roof over her head, casting the act in shadow. She was bent over, back arched, buttocks forming beautiful, tight mounds that brushed against him. “Oh god… please… come on!” she moaned to herself, feeling the resistance of that big, fleshy bulb as it mashed her pussy hole and ground electricity out of her clit. She tried again, and a third time. And then, she felt her slick labia grip around Blackie in just the right way, at the right angle… and expand like they never had before.  
  
“Unnnnnggh!” she groaned as his flange popped inside. “Fuuuuck!” It was a noise of ecstasy. It felt so much better than Reggie. The size, the texture of that bestial, jet black horse cock were scraping her walls, abrading her slick confines like he had _never_ done. “It’s so fucking big!” She shoved her hips back more. Her sandy brown hair fell around both sides of her face in silken curtains, her breasts, loosed from her bra, hung down with perfect, gravity defying shape and size, the nipples directly at the lowest point like cow udders, ready to be milked. In the moment of ecstasy she seemed less like a girl and more like a mare.   
  
She thrust back as much as she dared, trying not to push her luck. If Blackie got in on the action, she would no doubt go flying at best and get skewered at worst. She swung her hips in a sort of side to side motion, schlorping up the first six inches of her stallion’s spongy meat, coating it with her wetness and making it glistened. She was so lubed up, it was dripping onto the ground. And the noises - wet, meaty, _schlorping_ noises that were unbelievably lewd, exactly as one might expect a gripping, gorgeous teen pussy to sound when moving up and down some fat horse cock! She thought she could feel some cum leaking into her from Blackie’s cock, but wasn’t sure - the whole thing was such a nexus of pleasure, it was impossible to know for sure.  
  
She lost herself in the moment for a while, bumping her hips back, keeping a grip on the shaft behind her so it didn’t fall out, essentially using the front section of Blackie’s meat as a dildo, with her hand around the ‘base’ Her movements sped up and she got into a rhythm, recognizing at once the plateau of pleasure she so often tried to reach with Reggie, and cresting it effortlessly with her new lover her pussy crackling with tiny orgasms that seemed to be building up to a greater explosion. It felt too good to stop, and she made an effort to take as much of the cock as she could, wanting that cum as deep as it could get, wanting any vestige of her boyfriend’s issue to be wiped out.  
  
Blackie, for his part, had only nickered and shuffled his hooves every so often, remaining remarkably compliant. But he had always been that way with her. Old Sheb often remarked that he was less finicky and aggressive with her than other riders, as if they had a ‘special connection’ and Skylar believed that to be true. She knew what she was doing wasn’t safe… but she trusted Blackie.  
  
It was just as she had this thought that she felt him lurch forward, causing her to stumble forward as well and brace her hands on the front gate of his stall. “Blackie, no!” she cried, but before she could do anything else, she felt the shadow above her shift and heard him whinny as he rose his forelegs up and hooked them over the top rung of the same gate, imitating the pose he might make when mounting a mare. “Blackie!” she cried again, and then she heard him snuffle and felt such a surge of pressure that her pretty eyes nearly bugged out of her head.  
  
There was a wet, grinding schlorp noise as Blackie used his powerful haunches to deliver nearly _eighteen inches_ of thick, ebony horse meat into her tight, gripping teenage cunt. Skylar made a noise that was barely human - an undulating, pitch-changing animal warble - and her eyes rolled back in her head. Her tongue slid out of her mouth. She held onto the middle rail of the stall gate for dear life. She felt her body stretch around his thickness, felt her womb be pressed flat by his cock flange as he punished her with short strokes.  
  
 _Slllrk. Slllch. Slllrk._ Her pussy gripped his meat like a sleeve, the pinkness clinging in prolapse with each withdrawal, and sending a sprinkler shower of lube down between her legs with each thrust. This was it, she knew. This was what she had both feared, and wanted. Blackie was so deep inside her, it made sex with Reggie look like nothing but a joke. This was the place she had longed for his cock to reach, but been unable to articulate, not wanting the hassle, the conflict that came with requesting a deeper, more satisfying fuck. Her ovaries were throbbing, both from the impacts of each thrust and from a state of breeding overdrive. As the thrusts continued, she found her voice.  
  
“Yes… Blackie… do it… get his… nasty… garbage… out of… my… pussy!”  
  
Then she felt it - a hose-like spray of semen pumping directly into her womb via her dick-kissing cervix. There was no mistaking it. She had never felt anything like the heat and volume of Blackie’s ejaculation. Her developing teenage womb inflated instantly, like a balloon, as it was deluged with chunky nut cream that was as thick as pudding. A life-altering orgasm didn’t just tear through her body, it tore through her soul. Every nerve ending, every pleasure center, exploded like an atomic bomb as she felt her body stretching, inflating, to accommodate the huge volume of cum.   
  
The cum-blasting spurts turned into churning, washing machine sounds as the additional semen was shot into the stuffed-full reservoir of her womb, pluming into the rest and mixing it up. Her womb expanded and grew, making her look pregnant with a baby of pure horse semen. The tight seal of her pussy around Blackie’s long ebony pole made it impossible for much to escape.  
  
Skylar’s imagination ran wild as she swooned, slumped over the bar with her slovenly, piggish cum-gut bulging down. She imagined Reggie’s pathetic, cringing human spermatozoa being stampeded by a thousand times the amount of rugged horse sperm, their heads five times the size, their flagella five times as long. Reggie’s sperm feebly trying to burrow their way into her fertile egg, almost making it, only for Blackie’s stallion load to arrive and utterly _rape_ it and tear it into pieces with procreative violence, assuring no conception should could occur.  
  
 _Come and take a look at what I think of your worthless cum_ , Reggie, she thought, viciously, spasming with orgasm. _Your tiny rapist prick wasn’t getting it done so I needed an eighteen-inch morning-after pill. Your sperm thought they were going to have a good time, but they’re getting fucked in the ass right now. We’re through, and I’ll never get back together with you. Not unless you gain about 2,000 pounds of muscle and twenty inches of cock!_  
  
Finally, Blackie relented, disengaging his forehooves from the gate and sliding sideways, so as not to come down and crush her. His sated penis began to retreat back into his sheath with amazing speed, and after just ten seconds it was dangling in a gentle curve that was barely half the size.   
  
Skylar collapsed to her knees and then rolled to her back in the wet straw, looking up at the ceiling and panting, cradling her round, sloshing belly with both hands. Her womb had been stretched out just as much as it would be during pregnancy, and she ran her hands over it and mothered it, loving the feeling of being absolutely stuffed with a thick, lumpy horse load. It was slowly shrinking as the gelatinous, nearly-solid white sperm leaked back out from her pussy and piled between her legs.  
  
“I love you, Blackie,” she whispered, looking up at the horse with dazed, half-lidded eyes. Every bit of Reggie had been obliterated, she was sure, by Blackie’s superior, virile cum. There was absolutely no chance she could possibly get pregnant now, and the weight of that uncertainty lifted off her shoulders, making her smile with relief… and satisfaction. Blackie had also made her cum way harder than anything she’d felt with Reggie.  
  
She would break up with Reggie, she decided. She was done with boys, at least until later in life. Eventually she might want to be a mother, years down the road. But not now. Now, she just wanted to be with Blackie, riding in the fields… and maybe, just maybe, taking some more ‘quality time’ behind the closed doors of a barn.  
  
She rolled to her knees, intending to collect herself. Her lesson would start soon, and Sheb would be coming up to the barn at some point to check in. As she tried to devise her plan - what excuse to make for the mess, how to cover up all the cum splashed everywhere, whether or not she could use the barn’s water spigot to clean up - the day’s earlier worry of pregnancy seemed distant.  
  
She would soon learn that life works in mysterious ways.


	2. Chapter 2

_ It was just a fantasy. _

This is what Skylar Keen told herself glumly as she looked in the mirror and saw the way her formerly taut belly was curving slightly over the waistband of her panties. In all other respects, she looked as she always had - a stunning brunette with a body sculpted by both youth and cheerleading workouts to have necks craning constantly. Yet there were telltale changes, and this startlingly bit of swelling was the foremost of them. 

Following her ex-boyfriend Reggie’s callous mid-coitus condom removal and her subsequent vengeful encounter with the stallion Blackie at Stoneburrow Farm, Skylar had dreamt and hoped and prayed that she wasn’t pregnant, that her feeling about Blackie’s superior seed washing away all traces of Reggie was also reality. The horse had shot so much semen inside her, and it was so thick, that it first seemed impossible any human seed had survived. Now, looking in the mirror with her perfect teenage breasts bare, her nipples sensitive, her belly visibly starting to grow and her last period nearing two months ago, she knew it hadn’t worked after all. Reggie’s sperm (which it made her sick to think about) had snuck in like a thief in the night and done the deed before she’d been able to reach Blackie.

Skylar fetched a forlorn sigh and looked hatefully down at her belly, running a hand over it. The idea that the baby was “half-Reggie” angered her and made her feel defiled; her ex was being such a jerk even since the incident that there was absolutely no hope of reconciliation or a happy outcome. After their breakup, Reggie had first gaslit her, telling her she was overreacting to him cumming inside her unprotected and without permission. Then, when it was clear she wasn’t going to get back together with him under any circumstances, he started dating Yvonne, another member of the cheerleading squad, all while spreading rumors about Skylar around school.

Yvonne, who was blonde-haired, bitchy, and (in Skylar’s opinion) extremely slutty, seemed like a perfect match for Reggie, and had immediately started spying on her on his behalf. This rift destroyed the chemistry of the cheer team, with the other girls feeling almost forced to pick sides. And with the cheerleading costumes consisting of midriff-baring vests and mid-thigh length skirts that flew up to display plenty of curvy teen buttock while jumping and kicking, Yvonne had noticed Skylar’s growing belly just as soon as Skylar herself had.

That had happened earlier that afternoon, after school. Yvonne had tittered, saying in a singsong voice: “Uh-oh! Someone’s gone and got herself in trouble! Does anyone know if this school has maternity leave for cheerleaders?” The Yvonne allies had giggled with laughter and Skylar’s friends had only looked about, embarrassed the subject was being brought up.

But Yvonne didn’t stop there. “I guess what we’ve been hearing around school is true. She likes to  _ put out _ a little too much!” She said this amidst the snapping of her bubblegum, her white teeth glistening like the fangs of the social predator she was. Yvonne, who teased out her eyelashes to obscene lengths, wore skanky lip gloss, and bleached her hair almost white, had absolutely no business criticizing Skylar on this front. Skylar had heard that Yvonne had gone down on half the boys in school, but, unlike her rival, had had the good nature and anti-drama tendencies not to bring it up.

Skylar didn’t know how to react. “You’re a bitch, Yvonne!” was what had come to mind, and she uttered those words, gathered her things, and walked out of practice, no longer wanting to be around the gossiping, judgmental girls. Even cheerleading, once a source of respite from her trials with Reggie, was now tainted.

As she walked away, ears burning, she heard Yvonne taunt: “Are you gonna be on sixteen and pregnant?”, followed by the laughter of the blonde’s bitchy allies. That had been an hour before, and now here she stood, in front of her bathroom mirror, rubbing her hands over the small but noticeable bulge in her otherwise featureless abdomen. There was nothing else out of place - her skin was still well-complexioned, her hips still tight and athletic - but there was no denying the truth of her situation. One missed period, a second probably coming, and now this.

_ It’s too early _ , her mind rebelled.  _ Way too early. It would be barely eight weeks! Women don’t show until twelve or sixteen weeks! _

All true. But on the other hand… there it was. Skylar closed her eyes and blew a frustrated, pent-up breath out of her mouth. “Oh, Blackie…” she whispered to herself. “What am I going to do?” She saw her beloved horse clear as day in her mind’s eye, everything noble and powerful and kind, but the image provided no answers.

The next day, she talked to Reggie for the last time.

His response was as muddled and self-serving as his morality; starting with a hesitant phone call that Skylar let ring for as long as she could before, at long last, she decided to answer. 

Reggie asked if the rumor he had heard was true; she told him it was. A few seconds of silence passed, the only reticence he showed the entire conversation when it came to braying his opinion at her, and then he said with obvious entitlement that they should discuss what to do.

Skylar told him that he hadn’t discussed it with her when taking the condom off, if he was so concerned about his role in the whole affair, maybe he should have started with that. She was still only sixteen, but in talking to him she  _ sounded _ older, determined and weathered and disillusioned of any of his grift or attempts at sleazy romance. She was straightforward and strong, much like the stallion that now pulsed in the background of her every waking moment. Indeed, she thought of Blackie as she told Reggie what was what, finishing her statement by telling him that what she did from that moment forward was none of his business.

Reggie’s initial conciliatory tone immediately turned into his trademark jerkery.  _ What _ , he asked,  _ I don’t even get a say? _

_ Don’t act like you want to be a father to this child. _

_ Well, you know how emotional you get, I don’t know what crazy thing you’re going to do. Try to stick it to me with child support somehow, I don’t know. _

She had scoffed at him; he was hurt not by her choosing to abort the baby (which was obviously what he wanted, being already balls-deep in his replacement girlfriend) but by the fact that she could arrive at that decision without his input. He had, she could tell from his voice, expected her to agonize over the decision, treating his precious genetic material as a treasure from which her body would be dearly parted. And that sense of ego, unwarranted in such a worm, made her think of Blackie again, and what she had moaned to the stallion in the throes of her tryst with him, when she felt the insides of her young body stretching around his  _ superiority _ and  _ girth _ and  _ virility _ and  _ size _ .

_ Erase him, Blackie! _

That he took any pride in what he had done was offensive, and when she tersely ended the call and hung up on him for the final time, never to speak again if she had any choice in the matter, the need to drive up to Stoneburrow Farm took her like a desert whirlwind of heat and need. She knew what Reggie had fantasized about - her pining for him, her trying to entrap him by nurturing the baby - and wanted nothing more than to dispel that idea with some huge, heavy horse cock!

_ Here’s what I think of your kid, Reggie _ , she thought viciously. And only moments after hanging up the phone, she was dressed in her skirt and halter top, brunette hair pinned back behind a barette, long legs working behind a denim skirt. This time there would be no need to hitch-hike. She would take her parents’ car, having gotten her provisional license several months before. Old Jeb had told her she could visit Blackie any time she wanted, and she knew just how she was going to nourish and nurture Reggie’s unborn child.

It took twenty-five minutes for her to leave her suburban area and make it to the pastoral town outskirts, stopping in the leafblown parking area that was separated from the ranch by a simple chain and two wooden hitching posts. By the time she arrived, she was feeling the heat of her body, and her reasons were as selfish as they were vengeful.

She walked onto the property and found Sheb outside of his caretaker’s cabin, his frizzy white hair ringing his bald black head like a half-eaten donut, stooped behind a tied-up horse, wielding a shoeing tool and swearing under his breath. His overalls were laden with dirt, as if he’s been up and down in the horse pens and animal petting areas all morning. By this point, they were familiar to each other, and he greeted her warmly. There was a hint of lecherous glee in his gaze, but only slightly, and Skylar saw it as an occupational hazard of speaking to an older man who spent all his time cooped up with animals. Besides, she liked Sheb. Unlike Reggie, whose horniness had made her feel put-upon and tired, Sheb’s was mostly harmless. Sometimes, she found herself letting him get an eyeful of the curve of her buttocks as she walked up the path to Blackie’s pen.

“Miss Skylar!” he said. “Here to see the big boy?”

“Yeah,” she replied, blushing a little at what must have been the obvious eagerness on her face. “I had myself a heck of a day. I just need to ride around a little. I’ll feed him and put him away, too, so don’t you worry about that.”

Sheb smiled and tipped her a wink. “Well, that’s kind of you, missy. I’ve had my hands full all day with some new arrivals. Three new big boys. I’ve had to separate ‘em, see how they get on with each other. They’re uncut, like Blackie. So I can’t have’em crossing paths with the mares.”

Skylar raised her eyebrows, and she made a scissor motion with her fingers. “Uncut? You mean-”

“Yep,” Sheb said, and leaned in conspiratorially the way he always did when he was talking about animal husbandry. “All three of ‘em hangin’ down past their hocks! I got ‘em in the meadow out past Blackie’s graze.” He leaned back against the wooden fence. “I’d offer to let you try ‘em out, but I bet you’ve got eyes only for that big boy, huh?”

Skylar blushed even deeper, and Sheb’s wink seemed to imply an intimacy between her and Blackie that was both true and secret. “Y-you, know me, Mister Dealie. Me and Blackie just get on really well together.” She smiled sweetly, but inside, her loins were throbbing in anticipation of feeling Blackie’s body rumbling between her thighs… first on a ride, and then, in the confines of his pen, in a very different way.

Sheb seemed to sense her slight embarrassment and lifted a finger to his white-mustachio’d lips, as if to say ‘oops, my bad’. “Well, that ain’t none of my business, missy. But I could tell you a story or two. More than one lady and matron has had a trusty stallion on the side to run to when things got tough at home. Something about riding makes those cares just… slip away. And I’m not talking just about country girls but all kinds. Black and white, it don’t matter. When someone is treatin’ you wrong, sometimes you gotta go to that beast that only knows how to treat you right.”

Skylar blinked. “Yes,” she said, realizing gradually how well the description fit. “Yes, that’s it exactly. Just… human beings can be so  _ ugly _ -”

“Ayup,” Sheb nodded. “You don’t need to tell me. And my own mama and her daddy and his daddy, they needed that lesson even less. Saw all sorts of ugliness and evil from mankind. So… you go ahead, girl. Go to that big boy.” He winked. “And if we have any unexpected visitors… I’ll steer ‘em away.”

This time his smile seemed too knowing to be unintentional, and Skylar felt a nervous, fizzy tingle in her belly at the idea that Old Sheb knew about the going-on when she was with Blackie in his barn. Nonetheless, in whatever strange form it had arrived, she clearly had an ally in the old groundskeeper, and thanked him before turning and walking up the path toward the lush, fenced-in square where Blackie grazed and wandered when he was outside. The gently rising path was deserted; the ranch had fewer visitors than in days past, when agrarian and rural activities had been a bigger part of American life. Now, Skylar supposed, the children who had once clamored to feed the foals and ride the horses were at home, playing on their smartphones.

When she arrived at the wooden, three-rail fence and saw Blackie standing and grazing idly in his meadow, she looked around. As on the path, it was deserted. Beyond, in an adjacent enclosure that ran all the way out toward the edge of the property, Skylar saw the other horses that Sheb had mentioned; the new ungelded males. One was grey, two were chestnut brown, and they stared idly back at her as she took them in. Majestic, powerful creatures - but not as striking as her Blackie.

Blackie was  _ special _ .

She saw that her favored stallion was already trotting over to greet her, and her heart started to flutter as she reached into her handbag for the shiny apple she’d brought. How similar it was to how she’d felt about the boys she’d crushed on when she was younger, the way her blood was pumping and her face flushed. She watched the stallion’s dark muscle move as he trotted her way and felt more attracted to him as she’d ever been to any human. A majestic, powerful physical presence… but without the  _ ugliness _ .

“Hey, boy,” she said, softly, as Blackie stuck his mighty head over the rail fence and let her pet his muzzle “Hey, boy. I’ve got something for you.” She fed him the apple and she leaned her head against the side of his, sighing contentedly. Images of Reggie’s braying, jackass face, mouth open in the middle of some vicious taunt, floated to mind. Then Yvonne’s catty, vicious mean girl stare. Humans. They had nothing she wanted.

Sparing one last look around and seeing no one, Skylar pulled off her halter top, letting her breasts fall free, placing the garment carefully on the ground next to the fence. The gentle breeze made her nipples perk up, blushing and pink. She removed the tie from her hair and let it flow free over her shoulders, shaking her head to free it. Then, he hands went to her skirt, unfastening it and letting it fall, leaving only her panties. Shortly, she stepped out of these and also pushed off her runners, then her socks.

She embraced Blackie, draping her arms around his neck and leaning, feeling carefree at last now that they were together and she was free from the trappings of human civilization. “Blackie,” she cooed. “You’re the only boyfriend I need.” She shuddered with pleasure as the horse’s hot breath poured over her chest, and then she guided the beast’s mouth to her pert and perfect teenage breasts, gasping with deeper ecstasy as Blackie nibbled and snuffled against them with his powerful mouth. Moaning, Skylar aided her partner, supporting one breast with her hand and aiming it against Blackie’s mouth, pushing it against him, letting him lick it and lightly bite until she was nearly swooning with pleasure, then repeating with the opposite breast.

“Nnngh… fuck… you’re so much better than any man!” she exclaimed, loving the liberating sound of her own voice. There were many things she needed, but one overrode all others. Normally she wouldn’t be able to get onto Blackie without a saddle and stirrup (these were in the barn) but the fence-rails provided enough of a boost. She swung her shapely cheerleader leg over Blackie’s back and settled in, leaning forward and, in lieu of reins, clutching her hands to his shoulders.

Blackie began to slowly move, and the sight of Skylar’s beautiful young body clinging to him as he trotted evenly and gently in a circle would have been enough to make any skulking eavesdropper blow in his pants. Her pale, perfect skin was the perfect contrast to his black coat, and it made it easy to see the way her perfect, cheer-sculpted butt globes bounced and jiggled with his every hoofbeat, and the puffy pinkness of her slit that was revealed between as she leaned forward. Her hair trailed majestically behind, laying against the muscles of her slender, graceful back, and her breasts, pressed against Blackie’s back, squeezed and compressed and bounced in all manner of enticing ways.

She clamped her thighs around his barrel belly and let the jostling of the ride thrum her clitoris like a tuning fork, moaning out, clutching at Blackie with her fingernails. Just from this ride, she was feeling things beyond what she’d ever felt with Reggie, and she knew from her previous encounters that it was only the tip of the iceberg.  _ God, I’m becoming a horse’s woman _ , she thought. And on the heels of that:  _ Good. Good. I don’t care. _

She clung to him and ground her young pussy against his back desperately, not loosening her athletic thighs and her clutching arms until she’d cum twice. She whispered for Blackie to take her back to the fence, and as if the two of them shared a special bond, the horse obeyed her command, and she carefully stepped down on the inside of the fence, taking a deep breath, her heart pounding. “Oh my god,” she moaned, hand to her chest. “You’re amazing, Blackie.” The insides of her thighs were soaked with her own wetness, she could feel the lips of her pussy sliding slick and ready against each other. And beneath the stallion’s barrel chest, as before, was that ever-present male organ, surpassing in size and virility. She could smell it; the musky scent of that leathery, dark-colored cock made her nose tingle.

Skylar dropped to her knees. Blackie was coming out of his sheath and growing, extending before her eyes to a size that put human males to complete shame. She could not resist measuring the heavy meat against her arm, pressing the big, spongy cock-knob to her shoulder. It was both thicker  _ and _ longer. And near the base, just as much a part of her forbidden lust, those two big, hanging testicles were looming, so heavy and full of breeding power that the scrotal skin was stretched down by their volume.

“I have a baby inside me, Blackie,” Skylar said, softly, knee-walking further underneath. “I need… someone to provide for me. So the baby can grow up big and strong.” The words were out of her mouth before she could really consider what they meant. She had been 99% sure that she was going to get an abortion… but here, naked in the meadow with Blackie, it was like being ain a dream world. Reggie seemed to take a perverse pride in knocking her up, as if he’d be the world’s greatest father, but the idea of having to go to him for support made her sick. No, what the child needed wasn’t Reggie. But maybe, with Blackie… it would be okay.

She stared at those big, heavy horse nuts, then pushed her face toward them and buried her nose between, inhaling deep and moaning at the brutal, animalistic musk that tore at her olfactories. All the Axe Body Spray in the world couldn’t help someone like Reggie duplicate. Fuck, it smelled  _ amazing _ , having those big, churning horse balls all over her face, feeling Blackie’s sweat smear into her pores, feeling his musk sizzle in her brain! She extended her tongue and started to lick and worship those big balls like they were fertility idols. She could almost hear them - churning, bubbling, making more and more ultra-virile horse sperm, all for her! She pressed the flat of her tongue against them, moaning, drooling on them, making out with them worshipfully and desperately while Blackie’s enormous prong lilted over her back like a shoulder-fired missile.

When she stopped to catch her breath, she was panting, squatting lewdly beneath him, arcs of spittle connecting her lips and those spit-shined nuts. Her grey eyes were desperate. “Feed me,” she begged. “I need it. The baby needs it.” She reached up to grip Blackie’s shaft and maneuver it close to her mouth. “I’ll drink every drop!”

_I’d rather chug horse sperm than have you buy me fried pickles_ , _Reggie_ , she thought, viciously. _I don’t need you, because_ _your baby is going to be nourished on 100% jizz from my horse boyfriend!_

“I hope you’re really backed up, Blackie,” she moaned, eyes transfixed on the fat pisshole of that monsterous, spongy cockflange. “I’ll drink it all, no matter how thick it is!” She pressed her lips against the cocktip and began to milk with her hands, massaging Blackie’s shaft as she posed lewdly with thighs splayed and breasts hanging down, her hair wild. In her youth, animalistic nakedness and lust, Skylar had achieved a kind of beauty that transcended human. She would have looked right at home wearing a crown of blossoms and prancing amidst the Dionysian debaucheries of the nymphs and fauns of legend, having sex with gods and monsters.

Her cheeks hollowed out and her lips pursed as she suckled. Blackie’s cock twitched and spurted a fat worm of thick, gooey cum onto her tongue, coiling around and piling on it until it was buried. Skylar moaned with pleasure, her face delirious with happiness at the fresh, virile treat. It tastes so strong, and even in the moistness of her mouth, didn’t break apart at all! She reached into her mouth and pulled it out in a big, thick strand of goo, gazing at it as if hypnotized. “Nnngh!” she moaned. “It’s so fucking thick!” She lowered it into her mouth and started to suck and fellate the cum-worm, blowing lusty breaths out of her nose. Fuck, it smelled so strong, and tasted even stronger! She could imagine the big, virile sperms just wriggling in it, looking for eggs to fertilize. No, not just fertilize. To tear to shreds with pure, nasty breeding power! Her other hand found her pussy at this mental image, and she began to finger herself, drawing lewd and wet sounds from her needy slit.

She chewed the cum, marveling at how long she had to masticate it before it finally broke apart and mixed with her saliva… and then, when she swallowed, her hand followed the passage from her gulping throat, down her breasts, and to her belly, where it hovered over the gentle curve of the unborn baby. 

_ I love horse cum _ , she realized.  _ I just want to drink it until I’m fit to burst! _

She gave her sixteen-year-old throat to the stallion willingly, not caring at the way his girth made her jaw creak, only opening as wide as she could and gagging her face down that thick, long shaft time and again, doing it until her eyes watered and her nose ran. Sounds that once would have mortified her as slutty and nasty echoed from her body and she welcomed them as symbols of her devotion. She no longer cared what anyone thought of her, let alone that bitch Yvonne, or Reggie. Hell, in that moment, she wanted them to know.

_ I wish you were here, Reggie. Watching me take Blackie’s huge horse cock all the way down my throat! Then you could see how a real stud handles his girl! _ She reached out and cupped Blackie’s big balls, barely able to reach them at the shallowest point of her oral. She kneaded, rubbed, and groped them, gurgling with pleasure around his cock. The heat and weight of them drove her wild, and she moaned out desperately as her throat was stretched and she felt those nuts twitch and seem to swell… she could see them in her mind’s eye, throbbing in that musky sack,  _ churning _ out wad after wad of the thick, gooey  _ horse cream _ that she craved!

She needed to drink.

Blackie’s hooves skittered and pranced a little as he reached orgasm with his cock halfway down Skylar’s sucking, slurping young throat, the bulging medial ring pressing up against her stretched lips. A great sound of spraying, spurting ejaculation could be heard as his mighty testicle drew up close to the base of his monstrous fuckmeat… and Skylar’s fingering and breast-kneading reached a finger pitch. It was like her entire throat became an erogenous zone - the very act of feeling those hose-blasts of cum slopping into her belly was erotic to her in extreme. She felt herself nourishing herself from the penis of horse boyfriend, feeding herself and her baby, knowing that those fat, clumpy wads of sperm would be turned into nutrients in her cum-hungry belly. She felt more comfortable in her lewd stripper squat beneath Blackie’s barrel belly than she ever had on Reggie’s arm.

Her orgasm came easily and explosively as her fingers became a blur. Cock cream burst from her nostrils and over her lower lip and down her chin in a spray, and she couldn’t take her eyes off the way Blackie’s nuts were bulging and throbbing as the beast filled her guts! It was such a huge load, and so thick… she could feel her belly growing gravid and heavy with  _ pure horse nut _ !

It seemed like an eternity that she squatted there, throat-locked around that monstrous, bestial cock, accepting all it had to give. She stumbled back on the grass only after Blackie’s issue had completely ceased, falling to her back, looking up at that half-hard prick and those big, leathery balls, rubbing her hands down over her belly and finding it swollen with sperm. God, she had swallowed so much! 

_ The baby that came out of your needle-dick is going to grow big and strong from all these super-thick horse loads _ , Reggie, she thought, viciously.  _ What do you think of that? Blackie’s big fat sperms are going to do more to raise this child than you ever could! _ She imagined herself striding up to him with an enormous cum-gut after draining Blackie’s balls, stifling a thick, bubbling sperm-burp, and telling him his services as a provider would not be needed. A delicious fantasy. But while it was easy for her to hate Reggie, her feelings about the baby were still muddled. Of course a horse couldn’t really be a father… could it?

It was a crazy thought.

Her hands went to the swollen curve of her midsection, now twice the size it had been. She felt her stomach rebel and then, heaving, she vomited an arcing rocket of thick, greyish-white sperm, all over her own belly. The warmth and gooey thickness of it (god, it had barely broken down, even in her stomach… what a virile sperm load!) turned her on, and it was with a twisted sort of pride that she rubbed the spew all over her slightly-diminished belly, anointing her pregnancy with it, marking herself.

“I love your cum, Blackie,” she whispered. She closed her eyes and fantasized again, about Reggie walking up to her, trying to reconcile, asking for a second chance… only for her to lean over and unleash a massive eruption of cum vomit from her mouth until it was piled inches high on the floor.

_ Unngh… Reggie...  _

_ As you can see… _

_ My new boyfriend… _

_ Is… already giving me all I can handle! _

“I want more,” she croaked to herself. “I want more, Blackie… is it okay?” She turned her head to the side and saw three onlookers at the fence that separated Blackie’s pen from the larger meadow bordering the edge of the property. Not men (Sheb seemed to have kept his promise to keep visitors away, if any had even arrived to begin with) but horses. The three new, ungelded males, grey and two chestnut browns, watching her with eyes that seemed speculative and fierce. And hanging down past their hocks, those big fat horse cocks and big, sweaty, musky balls…

“My baby needs cum,” she moaned to herself, barely audible over the wind. Blackie stepped away, leaving her looking up at a sky that was starting to turn dark with the approaching sunset, the first stars visible. She stood, knees shaking, her teenage body still absolutely perfect in spite of her ordeal, belly, forearms and hands greased up with cum like lotion. Her cute feet were slightly darkened with meadow dirt, her hair wild and windblown. Blackie put his muzzle to her lower back and nudged her toward the fence.

“Oh, Blackie!” she moaned, turning to press her lips against his soft coat. “I knew you wouldn’t be jealous!” She pressed her mouth against his prickly muzzle, and when he extended his tongue, she took the rubbery, driving organ into her mouth, fellating it like a cock, bobbing her face back and forth and drinking the hot saliva that poured down her throat, groaning with ecstasy as she made out lewdly with her horse boyfriend. Blackie’s tongue was so long and thick and powerful that she could suck it, deep-throat it, tasting his earthy, intoxicating mouth eagerly until finally, gasping, she parted from him.

Then, she walked, pert buttocks bouncing with each step, toward the larger field, and the row of horses there, lifting one leg and placing it carefully on the top beam to hoist herself over the fence, unabashedly showing off her pussy with its soft, sparse brown pubic hair. They were on her before she could even set a foot down on the other side, plying her with their fat tongues and low-slung heads as she still had her leg lifted. Strong animals, necks extended as if feeding, lapping at her pussy and driving their powerful, thick appendages into her defenseless teen pussy, tasting her. She reached back, lifting her buttock, spreading herself obscenely in a way she never could have imagined doing for Reggie, or any other human man. 

The three stallions took turns munching her twat, making her cum again and again with the rough attentions of their lips and tongues. Within five minutes, she was rabid for them, after ten, she could no longer contain herself. Blackie came to the fence, watching, as she cried out with pleasure and dropped to her knees, positioning herself behind or underneath the horses as they stood. Gently, sinfully, she bid them turn around and stand facing away at the equidistant points of a triangle, so she could tend to their hanging cocks and fat balls.

“Oh, fuck!” she cooed, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of hanging horse dick. She inhaled the musky scent and swooned as three sets out powerful stallion haunches surrounded her. “I’ll take care of all of your amazing cocks!” Skylar felt disconnected from who she had previously been, and was operating as a free spirit, naked with the grass between her toes and every erogenous zone on her body on fire with need. She reached between the legs of the nearest stallion and took hold of its cock, her dainty hand unable to completely encircle the veinous, mottled shaft. She leaned forward and started sucking on the horse’s testicles while milking it downward, passing out this loving treatment for as long as she could go without suffocating, then switching to the next horse to repeat the task.

“You’re all so full!” she moaned, feeling the bubbling, percolating sperm sacks seem to boil and sputter against her mouth as she pursed her lips and hollowed her cheeks, sucking the, licking them, drooling all over them, milking those shafts to full hardness. She drew in gleeful breaths as she saw big, gooey wads begin to leak from their pissholes, drawn forth by her downward strokes. “And it’s so thick!” Nothing could hide the glee in her voice, yet she couldn’t help but add a caveat in her own mind -  _ but not as thick as Blackie _ .

The three horses together represented an overwhelming sexual experience, but taken on his own, Blackie was still the biggest, the strongest, his cock the largest and his semen the thickest. She realized with guilty, sinful pleasure that she could tell Blackie was bigger by the way those churning nuts felt in her mouth, the way her jaw creaked a little extra when she tried to wrap her lips around one of Blackie’s cum-factories.

_ I’m becoming a horse-whore _ , she realized, her mind racing.  _ I know my horse boyfriend’s dick just by the feel of it when I suck!  _ She looked up at the wooden rail fence and saw Blackie watching her as she tended to the others. She felt a need to impress the beast, to do the nastiest things in front of him to prove her willingness, things she would have never done for Reggie. 

“I’m going to drink every drop, Blackie,” she moaned. “I’ll show you… what a good mother… I am!” She punctuated these words by kissing first one leaking, spongy cock flange, then the second, then the third. Next, she placed herself between two of the stallions as they stood side to side, pulling in one cock with each hand, opening her mouth, aiming the turgid members at her tongue and teeth and the throat beyond. Balancing on the balls of her feet, thighs lewdly spread, her young pussy exposed, Skylar was jacking two enormous horse cocks - each one nearly a foot-and-a-half long and as thick as her arm. The gossip-mongers circling the cheerleading team like flies would have been scandalized to find one of the school’s more popular beauties in such a position, but Skylar no longer gave Yvonne and her ilk any mind. She wanted  _ cum _ . She wanted thick, nasty beast loads, pumped into her mouth!

“Come on,” she breathed. “My baby needs  _ sperm _ . My baby needs your  _ horse seed _ to grow up big and strong!” She shuddered, shutting her eyes, feeling her tummy tingle and her pussy quiver at the extremity of it all. “Take a look, Reggie! I’m going to be covered in cum from  _ animals _ ! They’re so much better than you are!” She pushed the spongy, pulsating heads together and pressed her tongue tip into those heavy pissholes, feeling the thick cum curds leaking out, knowing there was so much more to come, wanting to drink every drop. Her hands pressed together harshly, trying to stuff both knobs into her mouth, each one the size of a large breakfast muffin.

She pressed the dickmeat to her mouth in stereo, and her eyes rolled back with utter bliss as she felt the urethra on each cock tremble and twin hose-blasts of creamy, whitish-yellow horse sperm erupt onto her tongue, instantly burying it and filling her mouth, with the excess slopping over the sides and down her cheeks, dripping on her breasts. She tried to seal her mouth over both cocks at once, desperately, but they were just too large, and so she drank from one while the other marked her, blasting her teenage face, neck, and tits as she gulped loudly and lewdly. She switched between them as she could. She made sounds of deep, needful hunger and she swallowed, and swallowed, and swallowed, letting her mouth full and then gulping the pudding-thick mess again and again, letting the fat sperm ropes spray directly into her yawning mouth and down the back of her throat, sometimes taking two blasts at once. Her throat swelled and receded around the heavy mouthfuls again and again as she swallowed, losing count of the number of times, only knowing she had to  _ keep going _ , the spray would  _ drown her _ , there was so much cum in these big stallion cocks!

The third stallion, the grey, was still waiting for his turn, and scrambled on knee and foot in the forest of legs and big, shadow-casting torsos to attend to him, pulling his cock toward her as well and pursing her lips over the musky, leaking pisshole to milk his first spurts as well, trying to keep the two others within arm’s reach. They milled around slightly, making her feel lost in the middle of a stampede. Eventually she just lay flat on her back and reached up with her agile feet to milk the hanging, throbbing penis of the grey as it stomped and snuffled above her, her arched and toed rubbing the beast’s shaft and balls and always milking down toward her face, her cum-smeared mouth, still begging for more. The cum spurted over a short distance, plastering her mouth, her chin, her neck, and her upper body. Skylar gasped and spread it all overself, oiling her pert breasts in it, twisting her nipples, pushing the fattest sperm wads up toward her mouth and swallowing them down.

When it was done, every inch of her upper body was painted in the whitish-grey issue of the horses. Her nostrils were blowing minute sperm bubbles, and a river of cum had settled between her breasts. Sticky strands criss-crossed her face and stuck in her hair, elongating and elasticizing as her eyelids opened and closed. Rivers of cream ran down from her mouth, over her cheeks to pool around her head. She was covered from head to toe, staring up at the stars, and felt more free, and more fulfilled, than she ever had in her life.

“You boys are… so amazing,” she breathed, and the lust and love in her voice would have been obvious to any eavesdropper. How much horse sperm had she swallowed? Three liters? Four? Her stomach felt absolutely stuffed… but she knew, looking at the big, hanging balls on the receding penises of her partners, that they would be ready to go again in a very short time, if needed. What  _ studs _ . She thought of Reggie and his tiny-by-comparison dick, and his rolling over and falling asleep five minutes after a few thrusts of unsatisfying lovemaking, and then looked over to where Blackie was standing by the rail fence, and laughed. The comparison was so ludicrous, it was a joke. 

She laughed at the night sky for a while, a free spirit, a dryad in the meadow. It was forty-five more minutes before she gathered herself and returned to her car… and by then, the sun had nearly fallen below the horizon.

* * *

“So you’ve kindled.”

Skylar heard Sheb say the words as she was making her way out to the parking lot of Stoneburrow Farms, just before he crossed the threshold that demarcated the property. The stars were out early in the highest third of the sky; and in the dimming evening light she had missed Sheb, who was sitting in a weathered lawn chair on the small bluff that overlooked the downslope meadows and the lot. 

She wasn’t sure how to react. After tending to the horses, she had donned her clothing and arranged herself as best she could; washing her face and upper body with the water flow from Blackie’s barn so that the coating of semen she’d acquired wouldn’t be obvious. She had not passed within twenty feet of Sheb, hadn’t even  _ seen _ him (the lawn chair with its weathered coffee can to hold cigarette butts, was facing away from the path), and yet he had called out to her.

Now, he rose and stood silhouetted against the tangerine horizon, a bottle of beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other, overalls draped on his wiry body. He must have seen the uncertain look on Skylar’s face, because he held up a conciliatory hand. “Now, don’t worry none. I’ve seen a lot of things, missy. And I’ve never yet felt the need to spread other people’s business around town. Doubt anyone would listen, anyway - not to an old crank like me.”

Skylar gulped, the intoxicating taste of horse sperm in her mouth. God, she had swallowed  _ so much _ of it. Had her belly really grown that much? Had Sheb seen? “Mister Dealie,” she started, but immediately slowed down, unsure of how to finish. Not sure how to tell or how much to tell. He gestured for her to join him on the small bluff, and she approached, seeing that his expression was gentle and not stern. They stood together in the shade of a large tree and looked at the night sky.

“Look up at the sky, kiddo,” Sheb said. “What do you see?”

Skylar shook her head at the strange question. “The sunset. Clouds.”

“Above that. Look higher.”

“Stars?”

“You bet,” Sheb said, and tilted back a swig of beer. “I heard a lot of stories as a child, starin’ up at these same stars. Stories from the old days, mind you - the slave days.”

Skylar put a hand to her mouth. “Oh! Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that, Mister Dealie-” Talking about something like slavery with a black person made Skylar a bit nervous - the subject was always treated with gravity at her school during social studies, yet there were only a few African-American students, none of whom were her close friends.

He laughed. “I should think not, heavens to betsy!” His laugh diffused a lot of the tension, and Skylar found herself smiling. “But a lot of girls even in those days found themselves in a little trouble, and they used to look up at these same stars. You know the constellations?”

Skylar blushed a little. “Not really. I’ve heard of a few, like Big Dipper, and Orion’s Belt-”

Sheb nodded. “Good, good. People used to know the stars a lot better, child. Stars used to guide ‘em when they were in the woods, wandering at night with bloodhounds on their heels. Runnin’ north without a pot to piss in. So they knew the constellations real well, almost like family. And even with the sun just goin’ down, on a clear night like this you can see a lot.” He pointed to the night sky. “You see that one there? Like a horse rearin’ up?”

Skylar squinted, but couldn’t really make heads or tails of the arrangement of brighter stars. She shook her head. Mr. Dealie always had a way of making her feel like a little girl, learning at the foot of her grandfather or something. “I can’t really make it out.”

He held out his hand, standing beside her and pointing, tracing the shape with this finger, and then she did see it - twelve stars, forming a hind leg, a boxy middle, a foreleg, and a head. “That right there is  _ Centaurus _ . Named after the race of people who were half man, half horse.” 

Skylar’s eyes went wide. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “W-well, that’s… very interesting, Mister Dealie, but… I really think I should be going. It’s getting late, and my mother will wonder where I’ve been!” She was suddenly very aware of what she’d been doing with Blackie these last weeks. When she was with the stallion, any shame and guilt seemed to melt away, she reveled in their time together.

Sheb held up his hand again. “Now, don’t get nervous. Just listen to the story I got to tell you,” he said, gently. “Ain’t I always been a friend to you, when you’ve come by here? Passed a kind word?”

“Yes,” Skylar said, cautiously. “You have.”

He sat down and looked at her earnestly. “Alright then. I’m telling you… back in the slave days, when a girl like you would get in trouble - you know the trouble I mean, when a boy takes what he likes and isn’t thinkin’ or maybe he’s just mean?”

Skylar thought of Reggie and her face fell into a scowl. “Yes,” she said. “I know.”

“Well back in those days, that was happening all the time. And those girls were smart - like you. Smart and tough, like you, and they knew if they took that trouble all the way to conclusion, it wasn’t going to be no happy bundle of joy. Because that white boy that just took what he wanted without thinkin’, darn sure didn’t want that child. And that mistress of that plantation, that wife or that white girl, sure didn’t want that child born, and she would be cruel to that girl, and to that child, and make life impossible.”

Skylar found herself enthralled by the story, which Sheb told with a sort of strange authenticity that wasn’t in her history books. She could certainly relate to the situation; having been victimized by Reggie, and already being teased and mistreated by both him and his slutty new girlfriend. 

“So these girls, they took herbs that would turn the thing out, or if they had to, they would injure theyselves. Nasty business, breaks my heart to think about, but these girls were determined as they were afraid. And some of ‘em, they would look up to this same night sky, the Southern Sky, cause that’s the only place you can see all of Centaurus, mind, and they would ask for a little help. And in those days, missie, you know horses wasn’t just on a ranch or one of those show-pony carriages you see around town. Horses was everywhere, part of everyday life. Pullin’ wagons and carryin’ overseers around with their rifles.”

“Yes,” Skylar said, and she could see it in her mind’s eye. The beautiful but stricken young black girl, staring up at the sky with plaintive eyes, cradling her belly. Feeling sick about the young white son of the plantation owner, who had taken her without thought or care to the consequences. Knowing that if something wasn’t done about it, the mistress would see and know that her husband or son was dipping his wick in a forbidden barrel, and she would call for a whipping, or worse. Just like how it had been with her and Reggie. And instead of the pouch of herbs, or the metal wire, look toward a meadow where horses had been given to graze and seeing a muscled, strong specimen who was gentler, kinder, better in all respects than her prior partner-

“So I ain’t judgin’ you,” Sheb said. “For lookin’ up into that sky and seein’ somethin’ you like. Even if you didn’t know you was doin’ it. That big boy in that barn, he sure helped you out, didn’t he? Made you feel good?”

Skylar blushed deeply. “I… yes.” She took a deep breath. “Yes. Blackie is… he’s really special. Horses are… sometimes, I think, horses are better than people.”

Sheb chuckled. “Sho’ nuff, I think the very same,” he said. “And even though I heard this story a bunch of times, I never thought I would see it happen. Guess it goes to prove, people don’t change - even across the centuries.” And now, he looked directly at her belly, at that slightly visible raised curve, dispelling any uncertainty that he  _ knew _ . “So, now you’re gonna need my help.”

Skylar blushed so deeply this time that her cheeks were like roses for a moment, and put a hand to her face, averting eye contact. “Oh! I… well, to tell you the truth… I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet. With the baby, I mean. When I came here today, I thought I knew, but… now I’m not so sure.” She brushed off the front of her skirt, straightening it. “But,  _ you _ don’t have to get involved.”

Sheb raised an eyebrow. “Well heck,” he said. “You see the big picture but you missed the most important detail.” He reached out a hand to her stomach and rubbed it while Skylar clenched her fists with nervous embarrassment. “This  _ ain’t _ no baby. Not human, anyway.”

Skylar’s eyes went wide. “What!?” she gasped.

Sheb looked at her gravely and earnestly. “This here is a foal! That big boy up there has gone and made you his mare!”

Seconds later, he was diving forward to catch her. Like a belle in the stories of yesteryear, Skylar had fainted dead away.


End file.
